Early Preparations
by Boz1310
Summary: This is a story about Alan accepting his sorry fate. We see him prepare for it in a variety of ways including planning his own funeral ahead of time... As the Undertaker assists him in doing so, he comes to terms with his life, death and everything in between. ONE SHOT.


**Early Preparations **

**Boz1310**

_Warnings: I do not own Kuroshitsuji nor do I own the second Kuroshitsuji Musical. _

_AN: This is a story about Alan accepting his sorry fate. We see him prepare for it in a variety of ways. This pairing has always been the most tragic one that I've ever encountered but it is one of my favourite. Every time I watch the musical, I get more and more teary-eyed because I always think- what if? What if Eric had succeeded in harvesting 1000 souls? What if Alan agreed with the idea when he caught him in the Opera house? What if Ciel Phantomhive refused to grant Sebastian the permission to kill Eric at the end? Somehow, I think that this particular love story was always meant to end sadly, no matter how it played out. It's just some food for thought. This story features Alan and the Undertaker. _

_Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story!_

Alan Humphries was the sort of person who was a firm believer in the importance and necessity of order. It was obvious from his dressing habits that valued cleanliness among other virtues. He also possessed enviable work ethics as seen through the detail he put into his paperwork. Anyone who even remotely knew the fellow would have declared that his time management and organization skills were his best qualities. A few rambunctious reapers had even made the claim that he was on par with their boss- William T. Spears-when it came to organization and management.

Alan was one of those select individuals who could be found in the corner of a café, habitually jotting away notes in a daily planner. He liked to be prepared for anything and everything. He liked to have Plan Bs as well as Plan Cs and Ds. It was one of the only things that made him feel genuinely happy. It made him feel relaxed. Most of all, it made him feel safe.

And here he was now, standing outside the mortuary, waiting for the door to open and looking as scraggily and helpless as a stray kitten. Alan Humphries's inability to tolerate the unpredictable forced him to make an appointment with the Undertaker. He hadn't told Eric about it. He was certain that if he were to tell him about the consultation, his partner would only have stopped him and he didn't want to start another unnecessary fight.

It was his day off. Eric was busy reaping a number of unlucky souls down at the quarry at the other side of London. There had been a serious accident and many lives had been claimed. Alan thought about all the people who were now fatherless and husbandless. He thought about all the little ones who would have to abandon the idea of additional schooling and start labouring at the tanneries or cloth factories in order to provide for their hungry families. He thought about the additional lives that would be claimed from the terrible working conditions. He thought about the infants who would die before reaching their first year due to disease and malnutrition. Try as might; he could not come up with a reason to justify the cruelty of it all. He realized that life was just an endless cycle of death. The death of one would in turn cause the death of another.

He was getting a lot of days off. Senior Spears had spoken to him about an early resignation what with his health condition but Alan had protested and claimed that he was still fit to do a good job as a Shinigami. Will gave in without much persuasion and referred him to a desk job. Nowadays he did office work rather than actual reaping. He was in charge of filling out incomplete paperwork, primarily the unattended work of one Grell Sutcliff. He didn't mind. Since he contacted the Thorns of Death he had noticed a dramatic decline in his health. He was only too happy to help out the Shinigami Dispatch Association without the risk of further injuring himself.

Plus, Eric always filled him in on the excitement when he came home. Normally, the other Shinigami would come home to a nice candlelit dinner where upon he would start telling Alan the goings-on of the day. However, Eric had been coming home at later and later times. Alan often tried very hard not to nag his boyfriend over it. He wasn't too concerned with Eric's fidelity because then again, he was dying. He couldn't really blame the blond haired man for cheating on him if he was venting out his anger. Surely it was in an immoral fashion but everyone had their own coping mechanism. If Eric's method of coping with Alan's illness was to have an affair then so be it. After all, Alan's method was to plan out his funeral down to the very last black mourning band.

His heavy-laden thoughts were interrupted by the creaking sound of the morgue door opening. He was greeted by a silver haired man clad in black.

"Hello Mr. Alan." The Undertaker said amiably. "Nice and early as usual,"

"That's me!" Alan said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I hope this meeting isn't at an inconvenient time. I would hate to disturb you and your work."

"It is an important line of work indeed." The Undertaker agreed with a pleasant sigh. "It is _the_ very best career investment, in my humble opinion. There are good working environments, good hours, and you never have to worry about a decline in business if you know what I mean. You can always rely on the dead, that's what I always say, especially to help you get that new robe you've been eyeing in the shopping catalogue but never had the time to get."

"That's nice to hear." Alan said awkwardly, walking into the dark labyrinth that was the mortuary hallway.

In the autopsy room, there was a body waiting on the slab as well as countless comfiture jars lining the walls arranged in a fashion that spoke only to the taste of the Undertaker.

It wasn't as bleak as he thought it was going to be. It was unusually serene. Death seemed to be welcoming rather than cold and heartless as he had originally perceived it to be.

"How can I help you today?" The Undertaker asked. He was obvious that he was very enthusiastic as shown by the excited wiggling of his fingers. Alan felt his throat tighten as he remembered why he had come.

"I was wondering if you had any coffins for sale." He asked shyly. As soon as the words left his lips, he fought the urge to laugh at how strange the question sounded. He was asking for his future casket as if he were asking for a new suit to be tailored at a clothing store. He thought it morbidly hilarious. The Undertaker gave a little giggle as he realized the irony in the situation. He straightened his back and arranged his hat to give him the sophistication of a sales representative.

"Well, we've got a wide selection of coffins." He told him, leading the wispy Shinigami down another hallway. "If you would just follow me dearie, I am sure I'll have the perfect coffin to suit your every need. There's no room for regret when it comes to choosing a coffin. After all, you'll be stuck with it, or I suppose_ in_ it for all of eternity."

"That's reassuring." Alan murmured, but the Undertaker didn't pick up the sarcasm. Alan stepped into a room that was full of coffins. There was a wide array of them, ranging from size, to material, to colour. He gulped loudly and adjusted his spectacles.

"I'm glad you came to see me first." The Undertaker added before taking the Shinigami's arm and leading him to a corner in the room. "I think I have some nice coffins that are reasonably priced and very good for the environment if that's your kind of concern. Here we are. Now I think you should consider this one."

"It's nice." Alan mumbled, trying hard to calm his breathing. It was becoming more and more erratic as he became aware of what he was doing. The coffin was a soft brown colour, almost matching the shade of his hair. It was lined with a plush cloth the exact colour of the wine he and Eric had had yesterday. Alan stroked the material gently with the tips of his fingers. It was soft and velvety.

"That's solid oak that is." The Undertaker explained. "It's handcrafted and lined with the best quality velvet stuffed with goose down. You may note that there isn't a lot of detail. A nice cut, a couple of handles at the sides, a little marbling on the lid, it's very traditional. I just thought the simplicity would be best for you. It's a nice colour isn't it? I thought you would like a lighter colour to bring out the colour of the wonderful head of hair of yours."

The Undertaker paused to ruffle Alan's hair for a moment. Alan rolled his eyes.

"It's a little pricey, but believe me, it's worth the money." The Undertaker told him. "Since you're a good friend, or at least friends with my good friend, I'll make it 20% off."

"It's alright." Alan murmured. "I'll… uh… take it."

"Do you want to see some of my other selections?" The Undertaker asked. "Personally, I think this is the best one for you, but if you want to compare prices and styles, I can definitely show you some other ones. In fact, if you come with me over here, I think there's another one that will suit you just fine."

But before he could continue his explanation, Alan cut him off.

"This one is fine." He spoke softly. "I like this one."

"Good choice." The Undertaker said. "I would have to agree with you."

Alan paid him in advance and in full. He figured he wouldn't need the rest of his paycheck if he was dead. He had already written a will, leaving the rest of his belongings and money to Eric. He was set. He made the request that the Undertaker was to keep the coffin until he needed it without telling anyone about it. The emphasis was placed on keeping it a secret, especially from one Eric Slingby. The mortician gave a quick nod before pulling him away from all the doom and gloom and into another room that resembled a café or a lounge.

They sat at a table next to a toasty fireplace. The Undertaker poured him some tea and biscuits which Alan suspected were actually dog biscuits. They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the Undertaker spoke again.

"By the way, have you thought about what kind of funeral you want yours to be?" The Undertaker asked cheerfully much to Alan's dismay.

"Not really." Alan said. He had forgotten about planning the service part of his memorial.

"I suppose you would like an open-coffin service?" The Undertaker asked, taking out a sheet of parchment and a quill.

"I'm not quite sure," Alan said truthfully. Frankly, he didn't think he was comfortable having his dead body displayed to the attendees and especially his partner. He didn't like it when people looked at him when he was aware of them. Then again, it would be the last time Eric would ever see him.

"I'll have to think about it." He decided shortly.

"No rush, you've got the rest of your life to decide." The Undertaker said. Alan chuckled quietly.

"I suppose I do, yeah." He said sorrowfully. "I suppose I do."

At last, he was prepared. Well,_ he_ wasn't really prepared, he realized sorrowfully. The funeral was. As someone who worshiped the sanctity of order, he finally understood why he wasn't at peace. He would never be prepared for his death. And it upset him more than anything else in the world.

_Words: 2,000+_

_AN: That is that. What did you think? This is a one shot, so there will not be any further chapters in this story. I wanted to keep the Undertaker in his jovial self while having Alan slowly accept his death but also realize how scary and uncomfortable it would be. _

_Please feel free to comment, review, or correct grammatical and spelling errors if need be. Also favourite/follow for more stories! Any suggestions or questions can be sent to my PM box and I will respond as soon as possible!_

_ I really hope you enjoyed that story!_

_Cheers, _

_BOZ1310- August 17__th__, 2013_


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